Faith

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People think I should cry more. She did lose her husband to suicide, on-lookers whisper. I do cry. It’s just that once your faith’s tested, it’s like riding a bike. At first you need training wheels, the extra support to prove the ride is safe. That’s how it was for me. My first test came when I lost my daughters in a custody battle. God gave me the verse in Jeremiah 31: 17, which was a promise to return my children from the enemy’s land. He provided the people who could support me, Christians who no longer needed an extra set of wheels and those who were strong enough to help carry my heavy burdens. The weight of a trial can definitely flatten our tires. But, when the miracle came to pass and the girls came home, I learned to trust Him. So when my husband died, I didn’t need training wheels. However, like any person beginning to ride with only two wheels I fell and it was in those moments – I cried. The rubble of decisions that I faced each day, left my knees bleeding. Some days my ride was smooth, and it gave me hope when I made a little more progress than the day before. Nonetheless, there were days when my tires deflated and I shook my fist in frustration, “Where are you?” I cried in the night, "Wasn’t my husband the one who was supposed to pump my tires or bandage my scrapes whenever I might fall?” But, as I went the distance and peddled through the bumps of heartache, and confusion, and never gave up, a small voice reminded me, “Be still and know that I am God.” I don’t know where this road leads, but I do know this, I’m going the distance, and peddling a little further each day.

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